Nothing I Could Do
by fictionfrek101
Summary: Azelma has to watch as the man she loves, dies on the barricades. Jehan/Azelma. Warning: Will make you sad.


Nothing I Could Do

A Story About Jehan and Azelma

_1._

Her parents never knew about them. Frankly, they didn't care enough to realize that their daughter would sneak off every night to meet with the young poet. Azelma knew what he and his friends were up to, plotting to overthrow the state. She just never believed they would actually do it. So when word of Lamarque's death came, her parents saw it as a looting opportunity. She saw it as Jehan's death sentence.

When the Amis built their barricade, her parents put their plan into place. Their apartment may have been on the ground level, but knowing the boy was among the students at the barricade, just a pick of the lock and the Thénardiers hauled up in the apartment of their wealthy neighbour, Marius Pontmercy. As her father complained that Eponine was nowhere to be found and what he would do when he found her, Azelma watched as the boys built the barricade.

Throwing another chair onto the pile of furniture, Jehan glanced up at the window of Marius' house. Peering back at him were the eyes of his secret love. Azelma. He sent her a smile, he would stage this revolution for her, so she could have a better tomorrow.

She doesn't smile back.

_2._

She holds back tears as she listens to the first attack. She quickly loses track of where he is in the battle, and as each body fall off the barricade, she prays it isn't him. When the smoke clears, she finally spots him, and she is so relieved and focused on watching him, trying to assess if he's okay, that he doesn't notice her sister die in the arms of a man who would never love her.

She watches from the window whenever her parents aren't looking. After looting the room, they drift off to sleep and she's free to watch him as much as she wants. She watches as the boys begin lamenting about their lives, hopelessly passing around a bottle to drink away their sorrow.

"Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads!" Jehan gestures toward the window, where he sees his love watching him. None of the Amis notice her, and none understand exactly how much of his mind is devoted to the youngest Thenardier girl.

Azelma sighs sadly, absentmindedly stroking the small silver bracelet on her wrist. It's the only sign of a relationship between them, and she keeps it hidden from her father at all times, fearing that he would try to sell it, or find out about her relationship and take advantage of the poor poet.

As Jehan drifts off to sleep on the pile of broken furniture, she wants nothing more than to go down there and climb into his arms like she has so many times. She wants to feel his arms around her waist, his breath on his skin and be lulled to sleep by resting her head on his chest and listening to his strong steady heartbeat.

She prays this won't be the last time she has that chance.

_3._

The next morning she has to listen to her parents' sickening plans. They listen to the blonde leader about how it's the only barricade left. Her parents just smile and say, "It won't be long now."

Her father plans to go down to the sewers to loot the bodies that end up down there, and her mother plans to take Azelma to pretend to be grieving family members of the boys and take what they can when they're not being watched.

The grieving family members becomes true when they watch Gavroche get shot and killed.

"At least now we won't have to worry about him coming back anymore," her father laughs.

They don't notice her giving them a death glare that says they should have been the ones that were dead.

Holding back her tears, Azelma looks out the window.

She's met with Jehan's sympathetic and determined gaze.

She wants him to leave the barricade and come back to her.

But he won't.

He's going to fight for her.

And all she'll get is his blood on the floor.

_4._

He changes his mind too late.

She has to listen to his desperate calls as he pounds against their locked door.

But there's nothing she can do.

"I've had enough of this horrible racket," her mother crosses to the window where she sits. Completely disregarding the desperate boy below them, Madame Thenardier shuts the window on Jehan.

It's Azelma's last sight of him alive.

A gunshot rings out.

She doesn't hear his voice anymore.

_5._

She doesn't expect to see her sister's body in the lineup. Her mother's indifference to the matter is the most painful part of it all. Madame Thenardier swiftly combs over the bodies, taking a watch from one body, a ring from another, anything and everything she can get her hands on.

Azelma just stares at the bodies.

She can't cry, not in front of her mother. Even in death, her mother can never know what she felt for the ginger haired poet.

She stares at his battered, bloodied body. She could have saved him, but she didn't.

The tears threaten to spill, if she had not spent years learning how to restrain her feelings she would have broken then and there. All she wants to do is throw herself on top of his body. Hold him in her arms, listen to his still heart, feel the coolness of his skin, and stare into those unblinking eyes to prove to herself that he's really gone.

She says nothing for the rest of the day.

By some cruel trick of fate, her parents give her his possessions as her cut of the job.

They'll never know what it means to her.

She spends the rest of the day in a chair, unmoving, just staring at the small silver bracelet.

It's all she has left of him.


End file.
